Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

The packet in front of Harry told him almost everything there was to know about the lad, from favorite foods, to his career history, to his scandalous sexual past (which even the media hadn’t been able to get their hands on.) What the packet of painstakingly gathered information didn’t tell Harry though, was the only thing he needed to know. His people had been unable to figure out one ounce of information regarding their true objective, his blood line. Harry had a creeping suspicion about the truth, but the chances were next to impossible, and he refused to believe it until he had absolute proof. However, something about this lad had attracted his enemies, and he would damn well burn before he let them get their hands on someone who could harm him. The question was how could this boy, this little singing boy, be any threat to Harry or his people?

He knew that his spies had done their absolute best. They would take their own lives before they betrayed their king by being unable to find information that their enemies could. They’ve done decent work. Nothing surrounding this boy was concrete, even his enemies had to be running off of estimated information, guesses, and instincts. The problem was this meant Harry had to get personally involved now, and his work was less - elegant - than that of his spies.

“Liam.” he growls out, watching the blur that is his Chevalier work its way into the room and kneel before him. The whole thing takes less than a second, Liam looking up at Harry from his feet before his name is even completely out of his leader’s mouth.

“Sire?” he utters dutifully.

“Ready a plane for Dublin.” Harry tells him, dropping the folder at Liam’s feet and watching the photo of the blond drift out. “I want this done tonight.”

“How many men should I bring?” Liam asks, gathering up the information in his hands.

“None. You and I can handle this alone, I’m sure.” Harry grins. “One human can’t pose that much of a problem.”

“You - You want to go out?” Liam asks, unable to conceal his surprise. “Sire, we’re more than capable of bringing him in. You needn’t trouble yourself.”

“Liam-” Harry tuts, standing up and striding past his Chevalier towards the hall that leads to his personal set of chambers. “It’s been far too long since I’ve been on a hunt. I’m going.”

“Yes, Sire.” Liam says quietly. Harry can read the disapproval in his voice, the wish to stick to the unspoken rules of their society only suppressed by the instinctive desire to show his loyalty. If Harry’s tone wasn’t quite so gruff, if he wasn’t making it quite clear that he’s adamant about this with the scent he puts out, he’s sure Liam would fight him on it. He usually does with this sort of thing.

Before Harry disappears through the door he turns back and says “Be ready to go within the hour. The sooner the better with this one.”

Liam nods and then disappears as quickly as he had come. Harry makes his way down the hall, taking his own slow pace rather than the blistering one Liam is probably setting somewhere else within the palace. He strips down along the way, dropping his clothes on the floor, knowing that by the time he walks back out they’ll have been picked up by silent hands and prepared for him. His life is far too predictable lately, and he’s becoming bored with it. That’s not good for anyone around him.

He takes himself in by way of the wall sized mirror in his main chambers. His eyes have become more feral lately, sharper like the predator he is. His skin is practically itching with the desire to let loose, to let the Beast out. He could spar, could order Liam to take him on at full strength, but that doesn’t seem like enough anymore. He needs a hunt. He needs to feel someone fight him. He has no plans to kill the lad, not yet, but that doesn’t mean he can’t have his fun.

Niall pulls up to his house, and not for the first time thinks to himself how lucky he is. His life has turned out so perfectly, so brilliantly, that sometimes even he can’t believe it. He doesn’t have everything he could want, like a boyfriend or, even better, a family of his own, but overall he’s happy. Ecstatic most of the time actually. Basil pulls up directly behind him and Niall sighs. He should have known he couldn’t shake the guard that easily. It’s not that he doesn’t like Basil, he does, but sometimes it’s nice to just feel normal and that’s next to impossible when you have a bodyguard following you everywhere you go.

“You’re pushing your luck Horan.” he grits out when Niall hops out of his car.

“You’re just mad because I almost lost you at the light.” Niall laughs. “Bring in the food? I need a shower. Mark is ridiculous with the whole exercise thing.”

“Sure.” Basil nods, but Niall can hear the irritation in his voice.

“Grab yourself a beer when you’re done. You deserve it after driving like that. The last two couldn’t keep up with me.” Niall grins.

“Why do you think the label hired me?” Basil smirks.

Niall lets out a loud laugh at that and then heads inside. The silence in his house is off-putting, but he chalks it up to just having gotten back from tour. Quiet of any kind feels strange after five months on the road, playing sold out shows to thousands of screaming fans. Still, this silence feels particularly suffocating and he gives an involuntary shiver at the sensation. He heads upstairs, straight for his shower, and pulls out his phone to play some music to help clear away the quiet.

The opening chords of Hotel California trickle out just as he turns on the water, and he climbs in feeling a little less tense than he did a moment ago. Silence isn’t something he’s ever really been comfortable with, always with a guitar in his hands, or drumming a beat out with his fingers, or even humming one of the seemingly endless tunes that gets stuck in his head. He doesn’t feel like he can fill this silence though. It’s too heavy, too strong. That’s what The Eagles are for.

He makes quick work of it, eager to watch the game that Mark had so adamantly refused to put on because Niall can never focus once he does. It was fair, but still annoying. He gets so little time to relax it feels like, and he likes to spend as much of it as possible with a beer in one hand, and the remote for a game in the other. It doesn’t seem like that much to ask for, honestly.

Once he doesn’t smell quite so bad he turns off the water, dries himself off, and then rummages around his room for a suitable set of clothes. He settles on a pair of cut off trackies and a t-shirt. This way if he falls asleep on the couch at least he’ll be comfortable. That silence has taken back over as soon as he sets his foot out the door and his fists clench involuntarily at his side. He should be able to hear Basil, but there’s nothing. The entire place is deathly still.

He wants to call out to Basil, to get some assurance that he’s just being paranoid after a long tour. When he tries though, his voice gets stuck in his throat. His feet move forward of their own accord, and he’s not sure whether it’s to flee or to investigate. Nothing changes in the quiet as he makes his way through the house, not even a breath to push through the overwhelming sense of dread taking over his body. However, he ends up walking right past the front door because his fight or flight instinct is apparently completely wrecked. Lovely.

He walks into the kitchen and finds the fridge open, obscuring Basil partially. The sigh of relief he breathes out is legendary. “Grab me a cold one, will you?” he laughs, trying to push down the shakiness in his voice.

“Can’t.” comes an unfamiliar voice. The door to the refrigerator closes to reveal a man that is most definitely not Basil. He is, however, holding Basil up by the neck, unconscious and pale in the strange man’s hand. “This one dropped them when he saw me. Don’t think he was properly prepared.”

“What do you want? Money? I have money. Just let him go, and we can talk money.” Niall says carefully, edging towards the counter where he keeps his knives. He’s not sure how much good it’ll be against a man that could not only knock Basil out, but hold him with one hand like he weighs nothing, but he’d rather have something than nothing at all.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” the stranger hums, looking amusedly between Niall and the knife block. “My associate doesn’t handle threats against me well. Actually- I suppose the term ‘well’ is relative, is it not? I mean, the people he deals with, I doubt that they would say it went well. I, on the other hand, would say that it generally goes extremely well. I so rarely have to lift a finger. Liam, please remove the temptation for Mr. Horan here before he gets himself in over his head, won’t you?”

“Sire.” says another voice behind Niall, so close that it nearly stops Niall’s heart, and then a man is standing between him and the knives. He picks them up and sends the entire block careening across the kitchen in the blink of an eye. Niall wouldn’t even be sure that something had happened if it weren’t for the clattering sound against the far wall.

“You could put an eye out behaving like that Liam.” the strange man holding Basil says with a wolfish grin. “Honestly, what are you, an animal or something?”

The other man, Liam apparently, rolls his eyes, but otherwise gives nothing in response. His face is completely calm, nothing like the expressive face of the man who he referred to as ‘Sire’. In a way, it’s even more unnerving than the manic look in the other man’s eyes. “It’s time to stop messing around, Sire. We need to bring him in now.” Liam says quietly, looking at the other one. “They’re on their way. The fact that we’ve moved in won’t have gone unnoticed. He’ll send people to stop us.”

“Unless he comes himself, then that shouldn’t be much of a problem.” the leader says with a smirk. “But if you want to restrain the lad, then so be it. Try not to hurt him if you please. Not yet.”

“Listen, I’m sure we can come to some sort of-” Niall starts before all the air in his lungs is forced out. He’s almost positive he feels a rib crack when his torso hits the counter, but he’s more concerned with the sheer amount of pressure pinning him down. It feels like there’s a fucking truck on top of him, but it’s no more than a hand. His arm is wrenched around and the only thing that keeps him from crying out is the fact that he hasn’t had the time to breathe yet. This whole thing has taken less than a second. This guy Liam is almost inhuman.

“Mr. Horan-” the leader drawls out, sounding wearied with the conversation already. He drags Basil like a rag doll behind him, settling him in a chair at the table because he’s done with his toy for now apparently. At least Basil must be alive, or the man probably wouldn’t bother. That’s what Niall is holding on to at least. “There is no agreement here. We don’t want your money, we want you. You are coming with us. That’s already been decided. Whether you’re willing or not, conscious or not, you’re coming with us. How about this for a deal? You come quietly, and I won’t tear this man’s throat out before we leave?”

“What?” Niall rasps out, his heart pumping so hard it feels like it’s going to burst.

“I said that if you don’t walk out that door willingly, I will kill your bodyguard.” the man muses, a smile quirking at his lips that belongs nowhere near a situation where a man’s life is literally on the line. “The choice is yours of course. I’m perfectly content with either option. I’ll get what I want either way.”

“I’ll go.” Niall whispers. “Just don’t hurt him.”

“Excellent.” the man laughs. “I do so hate having the blood scrubbed out from under my nails. Liam, if you would be a darling and take our guest to the car.”

“Sire.” Liam replies, releasing his grip on Niall’s wrist, only to place one on the back of his neck in turn. He steers Niall towards the door, half lifting him off of the ground. In a way that’s helpful, because Niall’s legs are trembling so badly that he probably couldn’t walk properly on his own. When they get out the door Liam loosens his grip and quietly says “I’m sorry about this. I really am. He won’t kill Basil. He wouldn’t have either way.”

“And I’m supposed to believe you?” Niall spits out.

“That’s irrelevant.” Liam sighs. “I just thought you should know that your man is safe. Killing him would actually work against us right now.”

“Good.” Niall grits out. He plants his legs firmly, reaching behind his head and wrapping his hands around Liam’s wrist. The rest is something he learned in self-defense courses that the label had encouraged him to take for situations exactly like this. He’d laughed at the time, but now, as he’s hauling Liam over his shoulder, he sends up a prayer of thanks for the hot instructor, whose delicious abs had ultimately made the decision for him. He can’t throw Liam far, but afterwards he lashes out with his foot and feels a sickening crunch under his heel when it connects with the man’s face.

He takes off down the street, adrenaline carrying him. He takes a glance backwards when he reaches the end of the block. The other man hasn’t exited his house yet, and Liam is still on the ground. He stifles the urge to scream for help, not wanting to alert the other man to his position until he’s far enough away to properly escape. His knee is already starting to burn and he knows he can’t take too much more of this sprinting. When he takes a turn down an alley he sees two men walking towards him.

“Help!” he shouts. “Please!”

“Mate, what’s wrong?” one of them asks.

“You’re Niall Horan, right?” the other one asks, his voice completely devoid of emotion in the same way the long haired man’s had been.

“Yeah.” he nods, fidgeting nervously in place. “There are two men at my house. They’ve knocked out my bodyguard and they’re trying to kidnap me. I need you to call the police.”

“Come with us.” the second one says, wrapping an icy cold hand around Niall’s wrist. It feels like iron, as strong as Liam’s had been at least.

An unearthly howl splits the night and the man’s grip on Niall tightens, nearly to the point of breaking his arm. Then, as suddenly as it had happened, it’s gone. There’s a flurry of activity after that, and Niall isn’t sure that he’s not just having a nightmare at this point. The new set of men are baring fangs, actual fucking fangs. If that seems fucked up, it’s nothing compared to the new addition to the scene. Some fucking movie monster is standing between Niall and the men with fangs. It’s taller than they are by at least two feet, long arms that end in claws flexing as it growls menacingly. Niall can’t fucking process this, stumbling backwards away from whatever horror film he’s somehow found his way into.

“What the fuck is happening?” Niall rasps out, taking another shaky step back.

“This is what happens when you don’t listen to me, Mr. Horan.” a voice says behind him, accompanied by a firm grip on his arm. “Come on. Liam can handle this.”

“Li- Liam?” Niall stammers, turning back to find the long haired man. He’s not at all surprised to find his face more bored than shocked at the scene in front of them. “Where is he?”

“Tall, dark, and furry.” the man huffs, tugging Niall to his side.

“What the fuck are you people?” Niall asks, his voice breaking as his whole body begins to shudder.

“I think you know what we are.” he replies with a smirk. He hoists Niall up into his arms, completely unfazed when the blond starts thrashing around. He takes off at a breakneck speed, moving faster than any human possibly could, especially with someone in their arms. Within seconds Niall is being shoved into the back seat of a car, and then a sharp pain at the back of his skull makes the world fade to black.

“I assume things are taken care of?” Harry asks once Liam meets them at the car. Liam’s only reply is to hold up his hand and blow, dust swirling around in the air as he starts the vehicle.

“Was it really necessary to knock him out?” Liam sighs once they get on the road.

“Chasing him down just made me want to let out the Beast.” Harry grins. “It’s been so long, and I don’t want him dead yet. I probably won’t at all if my suspicions are confirmed.”

“And if you’re wrong?” Liam asks, irritation hovering on the edge of his tone. “What if we just kidnapped one of the most high profile people in the world for nothing?”

“Then we’ll kill him and be done with it.” Harry shrugs, looking back at the blond. He’s cute, but Harry couldn’t tolerate a threat to his people. If this man, this human, ends up being something more, then he can be allowed to live. He won’t be the same, won’t be allowed to resume his former life, but he’ll be granted a form of mercy. “We have ways of disposing of people. Even people like him.”

“We should have done more research first.” Liam mutters. “This is a terrible idea.”

“They were on their way to take him, Liam.” Harry growls. “I cannot let him get his hands on this one. Not if Niall Horan ends up being what we think he is. You know what a disaster that would be. He could destroy us with that kind of power in his hands.”

“This man is most likely just a human, an extremely lucky human, but just a human nonetheless.” Liam grits out. “And you, exposing us like this, because you wanted a hunt? At least if I’d brought my crew in, then we could have made sure there were no witnesses to this. I had to shift because-”

“Because this ‘just a human’ managed to take you by surprise and destroy your eye socket.” Harry says with a snarl. “We would have been gone before they ever found out we had been there if you had been able to handle one little thing. Instead, this tiny human managed to put you out of commission for a full minute, and you had to shift to fix your mistake. Don’t pull that rubbish with me, Liam. The two of us should have been able to handle this easily, but you had to go and let your guard down because you feel sympathy for him.”

“Somebody has to.” Liam scoffs. “He’s still a living breathing person who now has no hand in deciding his own fate no matter what his genetics end up being. He’ll live or die based on nothing more than guesswork. Somebody among us has to acknowledge this lad before he dies, and it’s clearly not going to be you.”

“He’s a threat, Liam.” Harry sighs. “I can’t let that pass. This war has been going on too long. We’re too few in number to let him get his hands on firepower like this. And you know that this poor kid would suffer a much worse fate at his hands than mine if he ends up being human.”

“He’ll still end up dead either way.” Liam says quietly. “You’re right I guess. If he does end up being human though, I want to be the one to take care of him.”

“Don’t trust me to make it painless?” Harry asks.

“No.” Liam says bluntly. “I don’t know what’s going on in your head these days. You’ve been unpredictable ever since- Since-”

“Don’t.” Harry growls, letting out his scent to shut Liam down before he can bring that up. “Remember your place, Liam.”

“I know my place, Sire. Do you?” Liam whispers. “You’re supposed to lead us.”

“I’m doing all that I know how.” Harry sighs, glancing back once more at Niall. The blond looks peaceful, as if he were sleeping. It tugs at Harry’s heart. He doesn’t want to kill this lad, so he decides he won’t. “If he’s human, then I’ll leave him alive. He still won’t be able to leave, but I won’t kill him.”

“It’s the right decision.” Liam says with a soft smile. “It’s the one he would have wanted you to make.”

“He was a defiant little shit.” Harry scoffs. “Never knew when he needed to shut his mouth. I see that’s rubbed off on you.”

“It was bound to happen sooner or later.” Liam chuckles. “You need someone to call you out occasionally. I don’t like doing it though, not like Louis did.”

“Nobody enjoys it the way Louis did.” Harry says quietly. “How much farther to the airport?”

“Ten minutes or so. I’ll have us wheels up in half an hour.” Liam tells him. “Now put a lid back on your scent. You reek.”

“Don’t give me orders.” Harry smirks, letting more of his overpowering scent leak out just to prove a point. Liam just shakes his head and rolls down the window with a smile playing across his lips. The rest of the drive is silent, Liam keeping his eyes glued to the road while Harry’s idly trace over Niall’s features in the back seat.

“Ah, he’s starting to wake up. Finally.” a voice says, deep and slow with a twinge of humor in it. Niall’s heart clenches at the sound, but he’s not quite sure why through the fog in his head. “I was afraid that I might have hit him too hard.”

“You hit like an infant.” another voice scoffs.

“Not compared to a human, Liam.” the first voice mutters. The name cuts through the haze in Niall’s brain like a knife and his eyes spring open. It’s impossible to know what to take in first. The long haired stranger is sitting by Niall’s feet, grinning wickedly from ear to ear. Past him, leaning against the door is the man whose face Niall is sure that he’d fucked up at least a little, a gentle smile set firmly in place. The room is- well, it’s insane. Its opulence personified. A mirror covers one entire wall, reflecting back the image of a bedroom that looks like an opera hall.

“Where am I?” he asks, scooting back until he hits the headboard. “What the fuck is going on?”

“You’re in England.” Liam says carefully. “You’re at our- Compound. We’ll call it that for now.”

“Compound? What the fuck are you people? A cult?” Niall snaps. “And you- You fucking shithead, what did you do with Basil?”

“Watch your tongue.” Liam growls, a deep rumbling sound that makes Niall shrink back. He remembers what the long-haired man had said, that the horrible monster they’d seen in the alley was in fact the man whose eyes are flaring up at Niall. “You’re in the presence of a k-”

“Relax Liam.” the other one laughs. “He’s feisty. That’s a damned sight better than the cowering mess he was back in Dublin. He doesn’t know who he’s addressing.”

“And just who am I addressing?” Niall snarls.

“My name is Harry. That’s what you can call me. No need for titles from you.” he says with a grin.

“Sire!” Liam blurts. “You can’t-”

“I can’t what, Liam?” Harry hums amusedly. “How would you care to finish that sentence? Or do you still believe you can give me orders? I do believe we just finished a discussion on that subject not too long ago.”

“Sire.” Liam replies, dropping down to one knee with his left hand gripping his right shoulder. “Please, forgive me.”

“Find something for our guest to eat.” Harry orders. “Mr. Horan, any requests?”

“A fucking explanation.” Niall says through gritted teeth.

“I will give you a bit of leniency, Mr. Horan, but do not expect to get away with pure rudeness. I asked you a question, and you will answer it before we continue our discussion.” Harry says, his tone sending a dominating vibe through the entire room that gives Niall shivers. “I will ask once more, do you have any requests for your meal?”

“I’m not hungry.” Niall says quietly. The truth is, he’s pretty sure he’d vomit if he were to eat right now. It’s all he can do just to keep his fear from showing on his face. His entire body wants to flee, but somehow he knows he wouldn’t make it off the bed, let alone anywhere else. The look in Harry’s eye tells him that much.

“How about a drink then?” Harry asks. “Beer? Something stronger?”

“Whiskey.” Niall sighs. “Straight, please.”

“Liam.” Harry says, turning to the other man. “Bring a bottle from my personal stores, will you? Something acceptable.”

“I-” Liam starts, but he must reconsider because he just mumbles “Yes, Sire.”

He exits after that, leaving Niall alone with Harry. Somehow that seems far worse than having him there. Harry turns back to Niall with an appraising look. “Now, you wanted an explanation I believe?” Niall is too afraid to do anything other than nod, so Harry continues. “We’ve brought you here for a reason, though I’m afraid that it might be far above your head if I explain everything all at once. I’ll answer your questions over time, in order to let you adjust to your new reality. Ask your questions, and I’ll answer as best as I can for now.”

“What do you want from me?” Niall asks, the words sounding dry and scratchy from his fear-raw throat.

“Nothing.” Harry says with a laugh. “You, Mr. Horan, are an unfortunate casualty in a war you don’t even know is happening. I’m sorry for what’s happened. I know you probably don’t believe that, given the way you’ve been treated thus far, but I am.”

“Casualty-” Niall says numbly. “Do you plan on killing me then? For a war I have no part in?”

“No.” Harry says gently. “You’ll be allowed to live, but you won’t be allowed to return to your former life. I can’t take that risk.”

“What risk?” Niall asks, a manic laugh threatening to erupt from his throat. “I don’t know who you are. I don’t know where I am. If you let me go, I won’t-”

“That’s not going to happen, Mr. Horan.” Harry tells him. “I’m sorry, but it’s not. If you are what I suspect you are, then you could be used against me. If you aren’t, you still know too much. You’ll be given a comfortable life. That I can promise you.”

“Like I give a shit about your promises you raging sociopath!” Niall growls. “You fucking kidnapped me!”

“Trust me, I was the better of the two masters you could have served.” Harry sighs. “I am no saint, and I would never claim to be. The other man whose attentions you’ve managed to catch though- He’s far more dangerous than I. He would have either used you to commit genocide, or killed you after sapping away every bit of your will to live through forcing you into the most unimaginable acts.”

“Genocide?” Niall says, his eyes going wide. “I’m a fucking singer, not an atom bomb!”

“That may be true, or it may not.” Harry says with a shrug. “Tomorrow I’ll know for sure. Until then, I can’t be certain.”

“You’re fucking crazy!” Niall laughs, finally giving in to the maniacal feelings bubbling up in his chest.

“No, Mr. Horan, I can assure you that I’m not.” Harry says quietly. “What I am is aware of a world beyond that which you know, of a reality that the world at large could not handle. I am the King of a broken people who are losing a war that has raged for centuries, and I cannot let you fall into my enemy’s hands. And I am sorry for what has happened to you, because it was completely out of your control.”

“I need air.” Niall tells him. Suddenly the room, though it may be as big as Niall’s house’s entire bottom floor, feels entirely too small. “I can’t breathe.”

“There’s a balcony out through those doors.” Harry says, pointing beside the bed. Niall scrambles off of it and out the set of French doors, drawing in gasping breaths when he hits the balustrade. The entire world feels like it’s spinning in Niall’s head, like he’s going to pass out at all the information that he’s trying to process. A soft touch is placed on his shoulder, and it takes everything in him not to flinch away at the contact. He doesn’t want to give Harry the satisfaction of knowing for sure that Niall is afraid of him. “Do you need anything? Water? I can put you out again if you want. It would only hurt for a moment.”

“What are you?” Niall asks, squeezing his eyes shut tight.

“I’m a King.” Harry says quietly.

“England has no King right now.” Niall grits out. “And you are definitely not a member of the royal family.”

“I am not a King of a country, but a people.” Harry sighs. “We have no borders, no true home beyond this place anymore. I am the King of my species, destitute as they may be by now.”

“Are you like him?” Niall asks. “Like that monster?”

“I am.” Harry confirms. “Though he would admonish you for saying it, so don’t let him overhear you.”

“I hardly think a verbal wrist-slap is the worst thing a fucking werewolf could do to me.” Niall replies, nearly choking on the word.

“We’re not werewolves. We’re lycans.” Harry says sternly. “There is a difference.”

“What, semantics?” Niall scoffs.

“No. We’re literally a different species. Werewolves are made. Lycans are born, except for a few rare exceptions.” Harry explains. “And lycans are able to make a full transition between human, anthropomorphic, and fully lupine forms at any time. Werewolves are slaves to lunar cycles, can only go between their human bodies and their wolf bodies, and they have no control over their actions when shifted. We do our best to keep them under control, but there’s a reason that the creation of them is outlawed within our society except under extreme circumstances.”

“Jesus fuck-” Niall breathes out, stunned by the ease with which Harry is saying all of this. For the first time since he exited the room he opens his eyes, and his jaw nearly drops to the floor. There’s a light breeze, but that shouldn’t be possible. There are massive cliffs surrounding them on all sides, reaching up hundreds of feet towards the sky. A city is carved into the rock-face, like some ancient society that Niall read about back in secondary school. It spirals down as far below where Niall is as the mouth of the rock is above them. “Where are we?”

“England.” Harry says, echoing Liam from earlier.

“No. No! This is like a fucking volcano or something! There aren’t volcanos in England! Especially not ones with fucking cities in them!” Niall yells, feeling himself lose control more and more by the word.

“Look up.” Harry says gently, pointing above them. “Do you see those shapes? The ones that make a sort of circle.”

Niall follows Harry’s finger and does see what he’s referring to, a dark, broken circle that stands in stark contrast with the moon that seems too far away. “What are they?” he asks.

“That’s Stonehenge.” Harry tells him. “We’re in an underground city made by magic millennia ago. That’s the gateway to my kingdom. We’re underneath it.”

“That- That doesn’t make any sense.” Niall mutters. “People have been researching Stonehenge for ages. This place would have been discovered. And you can’t see through solid earth. I can’t go anywhere, so just tell me where we really are.”

“I don’t know the original name, the one that the ancient witches who made the place gave it, but we call it Final Bastion now.” Harry says quietly. “And I’m not lying. I don’t understand it fully, honestly. I can admit that I have very limited knowledge of the workings of the higher arts, but that’s where we are. I can have someone take you through the portal and back if you need proof. Liam can do it when he gets back if you like. Though if you try escaping again he’ll have to take more drastic measures. His patience is near limitless, but you did make him have to regenerate half his face earlier. Even still, he was the one who convinced me to let you live if you turn out to be human after all.”

“Why do you keep saying that?” Niall asks. “Of fucking course I’m human!”

“You may not be actually.” Harry hums. “You may be something that nobody has seen in a very long time. Something we’d thought was long extinct. Your bloodline is unclear, due to your- situation. Someone is coming tomorrow to find out the truth of the matter.”

“Is that why you brought me here?” Niall spits. “Because you think I may be something? Because I was adopted? What the hell am I supposed to be?”

“Fae.” Harry sighs. “You may be fae. The subspecies is up for debate, though I have certain theories.”

“I’m a fucking human!” Niall growls, smacking Harry’s hand off of his shoulder. “Can you go? Tell Liam not to bother with the fucking drink. I just want to be alone.”

“You won’t be left alone here. Not until you’ve accepted your place. I can’t trust you not to try and escape.” Harry tells him. “You can choose between me and Liam for company until I can arrange an attendant for you. If you choose Liam though, you’ll be moved to another room within the palace. These are my personal chambers, you see, and he’d never stay in here. Also, I don’t really fancy giving him my bed while I sleep in a guest room. It’s unbefitting of a king.”

“I’m surprised you can talk so well with your head so far up your own arse.” Niall mutters. Harry lets out a bark of laughter at that, echoing off the walls of the city until it sounds like it’s coming from every direction at once. The thing is, it’s not a bad laugh. It’s actually a really nice laugh, and if it weren’t coming from this particular man, under this particular circumstance, then Niall would probably do everything he could to hear that laugh over and over again.

He’s aware that Harry is physically attractive, as is the softer side he’s shown since Liam left, but he’s also the monster who kidnapped Niall and expects him to believe these outrageous lies. It’s the most conflicted that Niall has ever been about anything, because on one hand he kind of wants to taste the candy-floss pink lips of the man beside him, and on the other he wants to try and pitch him over the banister. He blames the desire aspect on the fact that it’s been almost a year since anyone besides himself touched his dick.

“Sire.” Liam says behind them, making Niall startle.

“Well, what took you so long?” Harry hums, turning away from Niall and passing by Liam back into the room.

“I was - delayed.” Liam sighs. “People want to know what that scent is. They want to know why there’s a non-lycanthropic entity in Final Bastion. Everyone can smell him. It’s making the people restless.”

“Have an extra guard posted outside of your room tonight. Mr. Horan will be staying with you.” Harry muses. “I’m going to be busy. Having my head up my own arse is very time consuming.”

Niall flushes a bright crimson under Liam’s withering glare. He’s clearly furious, and Niall suddenly fears for his ability to survive the night. Liam’s voice is dripping with venom when he says “Yes, Sire.”

“Now, now, you’ll scare the poor lad.” Harry chuckles. “How’s he to know you’re just a sweet pup under that roguish exterior? He has every right to be angry, and I expect him to be returned to me tomorrow morning in the same condition as he’s in now. Better actually, for a wash and proper clothing. Have him measured, and my tailor set to task if you will. As for you, Mr. Horan, have a good sleep. Things will go much easier tomorrow if you have more energy.”

“If you’ll come this way, Mr. Horan.” Liam says curtly, walking towards the door at a pace that Niall couldn’t match if his leg did work properly, let alone right now. He throws one last nervous look at Harry before he exits, and finds the long haired man staring right back at him. Something about that sends Niall’s heart racing, and he scurries after Liam with a squeak. They exit out of a hallway, and then Liam turns to Niall and quietly says “I understand that you’re angry, but you’re going to have to watch your mouth about him.”

“I’ll say what I fucking want to.” Niall growls. “I’m not going to be some silent hostage in your weird fucking werewolf den.”

“That’s not what I mean.” Liam sighs. “I understand that you’re upset, but there are those around here who would rather rip your larynx out than let you speak a word against our King. Do you understand what I’m saying?”

“I understand that your King wants me alive, and you aren’t going to do shit to me.” Niall scoffs.

“It’s not me you need to worry about.” Liam mutters. “It’s the others. Our kind isn’t known for their gentle natures. We’re a good people, but we have a literal animal side that can make it harder to control our emotions. There are those among us who let the Beast control their actions, who give in to their ‘id’ rather than rationalize things. Those are the ones that you need to watch out for. I’ll be making a list up of people I trust for you to pick through for your attendant, but I trust them precisely because they are fiercely loyal to our King, and if you speak like that around them, then I’m afraid you may push one too far.”

“So you’re saying my new bodyguard is going to do the opposite of his job?” Niall questions.

“He, or she if you prefer, will be more than a bodyguard, Mr. Horan.” Liam explains, heading out once more and apparently expecting Niall to follow. “They’ll be your link to our society. They will teach you our customs, they will accompany you everywhere you go, and they will handle all interpersonal business you have while you’re in Final Bastion. They will be your servant, your protector, and your guide, because you are not a part of our people.”

“What if the one I pick ends up being a total douche?” Niall asks. “Will I be stuck with them for the rest of my life?”

“Not if you don’t like them, no.” Liam responds, not bothering to look back at Niall. “The King has made it very clear that you are to be given a certain level of respect. Frankly, he’s changed his mind about you rather quickly. A few hours ago he was ready to end your life if you turn out to be human, but you seem to have caught his interest in some fashion or another. It’s rare for a human to even know about our species, and nearly unheard of for one to enter Final Bastion. You however, will receive an almost unprecedented level of esteem within our ranks. Higher still, if his suspicions are correct and you end up not being human after all.”

“I’m a fucking human. That’s not up for debate. I don’t howl at the moon, or have fucking fangs, or some other horror movie shit.” Niall growls.

“What you are, Niall Horan, is a mystery.” Liam replies coldly. “Nobody, and I literally mean nobody, especially a human, has ever gotten the drop on me like that. No human should be able to strike me hard enough to force me into regeneration. And no human who is adopted turns out to look exactly like their adoptive family. There are reasons that we were drawn to you, that our enemies were trying to capture you. Whether this ends up being coincidence or not, there are signs pointing a certain way that we couldn’t ignore. And were you to turn out to be what he thinks you may be, then you wouldn’t manifest in that way.”

“You keep saying that ‘he’ thinks that I’m something else. What do you think I am?” Niall asks.

“Lucky.” is all Liam says.

“I can fucking bathe by myself!” Niall grits out. Liam is quickly becoming tired of the boy’s antics, of his ceaseless capacity for self-pity. Liam feels sympathy for him, he really does, but at the same time the lad is so aggravating that Liam is considering shifting just to scare him into a sense of submission. It’s what Louis would have done if he were still alive. The only thing stopping him is a whispered voice in the back of his mind, replaying over again the scent that Harry had let out while he was ordering Liam to bring Niall back in perfect condition. He rarely releases that level of dominance, the magnitude of which was nearly overpowering. Liam’s nose still itches with it

“I’ve been ordered not to leave your side. You’re a flight risk in more ways than one.” Liam repeats for what feels like the thousandth time since they arrived to his chamber. “We don’t have to speak, and I don’t have to look at you, but you are not to be left alone under any circumstances.”

“There’s no exit other than the door! Why can’t I just have a few minutes to myself to fucking deal with this fucked up situation?” Niall asks, sitting back against the outside of the bathtub and pulling his knees against his chest.

“Because, Mr. Horan, if you attempted to kill yourself, we would have no way of reviving you. There are no healers outside of doulas in Final Bastion. If our bodies are harmed, we regenerate. Lycans are incapable of getting sick. Were you to slash your wrists, or something along those lines, I would be executed for having lost you.” Liam explains.

“I’m not going to fucking kill myself!” Niall hisses. The stutter in his heartbeat however tells Liam that the thought has at least crossed the lad’s mind.

“Do you trust me, Mr. Horan?” Liam asks.

“Fuck no.” Niall huffs.

“Nor I you.” Liam replies. “Your emotional stability is reaching dangerous levels, and the results of that could be catastrophic for me, the King, and for yourself. I have no interest in finding out whether or not it comes to fruition.”

“My emotional stability is fine.” Niall scoffs.

“You do realize that I can tell you’re lying, right?” Liam asks. “Your scent, your heartbeat, your voice, all these things are betraying you. It’s pointless to try lying to me. You could never reach the level of deceit necessary to pull it off. I can literally smell and hear the lies.”

“You are so fucking creepy.” Niall sighs. “You people can’t be real. This is all some fucked up nightmare, or drug trip or something.”

“I can say, without a doubt, that this is real, and it’s happening to you.” Liam says quietly. “Now, get in the tub. That water won’t be hot forever, and I’m not having a scullery maid heat more just so that you can be comfortable. My orders were to present you cleaned up, not happy. I would prefer it if you were at least semi-content, but I can live either way, and you’ve already worn my patience thin tonight. Rebuilding my orbital floor has a tendency to do that to me for some reason.”

“Rebuilding your what-floor?” Niall asks.

“Orbital. The portion of the skull that forms the bottom of the eye socket.” Liam tells him. “You completely caved in my left cheekbone and the bone behind it when you kicked me in the face.”

“You deserved it.” Niall spits out. “And why the fuck do you look perfectly fine if you had half your face crushed?”

“I told you, we heal.” Liam explains.

“Bullshit. That should take months, not hours.” Niall scoffs.

Liam rolls his eyes and decides that maybe a little demonstration is in order. He releases the grip he has on his Beast, just the tiniest amount, letting his hand shift partially until his fingers end in wickedly curved claws rather than human fingernails. Niall’s eyes widen and the stench of fear leaks out of him in buckets, but Liam’s focus is on hitching up his sleeve rather than the lad in front of him. He holds his bared arm out in front of himself, making sure that Niall is looking, and digs his claws into the muscle and sinew. The flash of pain he gets is brief, dulled by his regeneration abilities in order to help his body heal faster. He digs all the way down to the bone, and then retracts his claws. Niall’s face is a mask of horror as the muscle, and then the flesh, knit themselves back together within seconds right in front of his eyes. The blood pooled on the floor will be a problem, but not so much so that he will need a maid.

“It takes seconds or minutes for our kind to heal. A little longer if the damage is severe or bones need to be rebuilt.” Liam says gently, not wanting to startle the boy any more than he already has. His heartbeat is racing like a rabbit being hunted. Liam might have taken the display a little far, but it was better than transforming completely and scaring the lad to death.

“That- I- You-” Niall stammers, scrambling to his feet and rushing to stand in front of Liam. He runs his fingers over the new flesh, not that his sense of touch is nearly sensitive enough to detect what’s new and what’s old. “How?”

“We are unlike anything you’ve ever seen before, Mr. Horan. Now, please, get in the tub.” Liam says, biting back his irritation.

“Okay.” Niall breathes out. “Just turn away, yeah?”

“I have no interest in your body, Mr. Horan.” Liam chuckles, doing as he’s told anyways. “But do hurry up. Blood is so difficult to get out of stone once you let it dry.”

Niall can’t help but fidget at breakfast. His clothes are uncomfortable, though not due to the fabric or fit. He looks like he’s from the early nineteen hundreds in tight trousers and a crisp white shirt with a fitted waistcoat over it. It’s the same style of dress that Harry and Liam are wearing though, so he isn’t surprised that it’s what he’s been forced to endure. Their speech patterns, their clothes, their oddly aristocratic social scheme, it’s all from a different time.

Niall doesn’t have the confidence to question it right now though. Ever since he saw Liam practically tear off his own arm he’s been unable to do much at all. He barely slept, especially with Liam’s gaze on him all night. He hasn’t spoken more than a few words since he woke up. He can’t bring himself to eat a single bite. All of this seems to have caught Harry’s attention, even as he deals with several tasks at once during breakfast.

“What’s the matter?” Harry asks, taking a seat next to Niall and setting Liam on another round of silently seething, along with the rest of the people attempting to gain a portion of their King’s attention.

“Nothing.” Niall squeaks out.

“You’re lying.” Harry hums. Fucking lycans.

“Please, don’t do this to me right now.” Niall whimpers. “Just go back to what you were doing. They all hate me enough without you ignoring them for me.”

“They don’t hate you.” Harry replies, leaning in to whisper in Niall’s ear. “Most of them are absolutely terrified of you, actually. Only a few of them have ever seen a human in these halls, let alone one who could take Liam out in two moves.”

Niall can’t be imagining the flash of rage he sees in Liam’s eyes at the mention of that. Whether it’s because it happened, or because Harry seems particularly amused by it, is open to debate. “Please. Just leave me alone.” Niall begs quietly. “I’m not fighting this. I’m not trying to escape. Isn’t that what you want? If it’s not enough, then just tell me what I can do to correct it.”

“Liam, take our guest out to the garden, and behave yourself.” Harry sighs. “I’ll join him when I’ve finished up here.”

“Sire.” Liam nods. Niall follows him out of the room silently, keeping his eyes glued to the back of Liam’s feet so that he knows where to go without having to meet anyone’s stares. He’s been getting looks all morning, stared at like some sort of freak. He supposes they can smell it, his humanity. Whatever it is, not one person he’s passed has failed to gaze at him with one form of curiosity or another, several with outright disgust.

“It’s a bit warm out here, so if you’d like to take off the waistcoat then that’s fine.” Liam says, startling Niall out of his head.

“Alright.” Niall mumbles.

“I scared you with the demonstration of my regenerative capabilities last night, didn’t I?” Liam asks gently.

“It’s fine.” Niall says quietly. “I’m going to have to get used to your kind if I’m going to be a prisoner here for the rest of my life.”

“I hope you can come to think Final Bastion as home in time.” Liam tells him. “It’s a good place with good people. Your circumstances are unfortunate, I know, but you can still have a decent life here.”

“No, Liam, I can’t.” Niall mutters. “Whatever happens, I will never be at home here. When I end up being human, and your King loses his interest in me, I’ll have nothing left. My family, my friends, my career, it’s all gone for me now. So just shut up with your false pity, and save your arse kissing for Harry. I don’t want anything to do with it.”

“Lycans don’t lie, Mr. Horan. There’s no point in it here, because we can tell the same way I can with you.” Liam explains. “My sympathy isn’t false. I wouldn’t have told the King that he should leave you alive if I didn’t mean what I was saying.”

“You shouldn’t have done it.” Niall grits out. “You should have let him just kill me. I can’t do it myself, because I’m still a Catholic, but I have no reason left to live. You may have thought you were doing the kind thing, but all you’ve done is force me to live under my captor’s thumb until I die, or one of you monsters fucking kills me.”

“Then find a new reason to live.” Liam says simply, opening up a door. It leads to somewhere impossible, but the last twelve hours have taught Niall that the limitations of that word are not quite as solid as he might have once thought. There’s a full courtyard, filled with trees and flowers, sunlight streaming down warmly on Niall’s skin. He feels a breeze again, just like the night before, but his mind can’t quite make the connection that it’s real. He can still see the walls around the city, though he’s higher up now than he was the night before. This shouldn’t be happening, and yet it is. “You live in a world with magic now, Mr. Horan. You can find something else to validate your existence. I can help you if you’d like.”

“I think you’ve ‘helped’ enough.” Niall mutters bitterly, furious that Liam thinks that he can just replace his old life. Sure, some of the things he’s seen are fascinating, but that doesn’t mean that any of it could adequately replace everything he once had. “I could go the rest of my life without seeing you or the King’s faces and be content.”

“Now, now, Mr. Horan.” Liam tuts. “You’re going to be here for a very long time. You should get used to seeing our faces. We’re pretty important here you know.”

“He is. You’re just an errand boy.” Niall scoffs. “‘Yes Sire, no Sire, three bags full.’”

“I don’t understand the reference.” Liam says, crinkling his eyebrows up in confusion. “Three bags full of what?”

“Wool. Never mind.” Niall sighs. “I should have known you freaks wouldn’t even have human nursery rhymes. I should just count my lucky stars I didn’t have to debone breakfast.”

“You’d do well to watch your tongue, Mr. Horan.” Liam growls. Like an actual fucking growl. It sends shivers down Niall’s spine, his knees knocking together until he falls back on his ass, all thoughts of defiance knocked out of him in an instant.

“Liam!” a voice rings out, filling the courtyard with echoes. “Go check your people, and see that they’re ready for Mr. Horan to pick between them. Make sure that they know how to treat him properly since you apparently don’t.”

Harry strides out, looking positively furious. Niall can’t figure out why, not when this is how Liam has been since Niall was captured. “And prepare the yard for a sparring match between the two of us. If you need to let the Beast out this badly, then I’m only too glad to put it back in the bottle for you.” Harry grits out between clenched teeth.

“Sire-” Liam starts, looking as shocked as Niall feels.

“I’ve given my orders. Why are you still in front of me?” Harry asks, cutting him off. Liam disappears in a flash, the leaves rustling throughout the courtyard in his wake. “I’m sorry for him. He’s- He’s fiercely loyal to the point of being blinded by it. He doesn’t quite know how to handle you.”

Niall pulls his legs up against his chest, burying his face in his knees. He doesn’t care about any of this. He doesn’t care about Liam, or Harry, or this fucking city. He doesn’t care about Lycans. He just wants to go home, to forget about this place and these people. “What do you want from me?” Niall asks quietly.

“That depends on what you are.” Harry sighs, sitting on a stone across from Niall. “If you’re human, then nothing, though I hope that one day I can earn your forgiveness.”

“Why do you care? You’re a king. My forgiveness means nothing to you.” Niall mutters.

“Do you hate me?” Harry asks.

“Will I be killed if I answer that truthfully?” Niall asks in response.

“No.” Harry chuckles. “It’s alright if you hate me. I would understand.”

“Then yes, I do hate you.” Niall answers. “But I hate you less than I hate the situation in its entirety. You’re the only one here who’s letting me feel anything. And you haven’t attacked yourself in front of me just to get me to obey. That helps a bit.”

“Liam showed you regeneration then?” Harry hums. “I imagine he probably went a bit overboard.”

“That’s the understatement of the century.” Niall scoffs. “He practically ripped his own arm off.”

“Does the sight of blood disturb you very much?” Harry asks curiously.

“Not really. I’ve become pretty desensitized by films and such. It was more the fact that he was doing it to himself like it was nothing.” Niall admits.

“Would you like to watch the sparring match? I can have you put up somewhere for the duration if it would make you uncomfortable to see it.” Harry tells him.

“I have to say, I might get a bit of joy out of seeing him get hit.” Niall laughs. “I’m surprised you bother though. Doesn’t he just let you win?”

“No. Actually Liam has won the majority of our matches.” Harry says with a grin. “But I haven’t had a good fight in ages, nor a good reason to win. He needs to be reminded of his manners, and I want you to know that you’re safe here. I will protect you, regardless of how much you hate me.”

“I have a feeling that your life is a bit too busy to keep one eye on me at all times.” Niall mutters. “And I don’t need you to protect me. He may have won the majority of your matches, but I have a one hundred percent record of victory against Fluffy.”

“That you do.” Harry laughs. “Maybe I should make you my new Chevalier. Liam can fall down to my third.”

“Your chev-what?” Niall asks.

“Chevalier. He’s my second in command in all aspects. He’s the equivalent of a knight and a vizier.” Harry explains. “He’s basically my other half, the one who fills in all the pieces that I don’t have myself. He makes up for my deficiencies.”

“Sounds more like a spouse.” Niall scoffs.

“In some ways he is.” Harry hums. “Though not really, and we don’t have spouses. They’re called mates in our society. He’s more like my best friend than a husband. That being said, we disagree on most things and spend more time bickering than even mated pairs would.”

“You’re- You’re a mystery to me.” Niall says quietly. “Most kings probably wouldn’t take kindly to someone implying that they’re shagging a bloke.”

“Lycans have a natural tendency towards a more open sexual appetite.” Harry shrugs. “Gender matters very little in our world, unlike yours. You needn’t worry about that here, about that causing problems for you.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Niall asks, narrowing his eyes.

“My spies found out pretty much everything there is to know about you Mr. Horan. Our research into you was intensely extensive.” Harry laughs. “Your proclivities included, though the information wasn’t exactly of use.”

“Because being fae, and being a fairy aren’t the same thing?” Niall snorts.

“No, they are.” Harry says, his face confused. “I don’t understand.”

“Don’t worry about it.” Niall says, waving him off. “It’s a human term. You all act like you’re out of Downton Abbey or something. I shouldn’t have expected you to understand.”

“You say some very strange things Mr. Horan.” Harry hums amusedly.

“I’m strange?” Niall cackles. “You’re the King of the Werewolves, and I’m strange?”

“Lycans.” Harry corrects with an eye roll. “I told you, we’re different.”

“Whatever movie-monster weirdness you call yourselves.” Niall scoffs. “You’re all something out of a nightmare, and yet I’m the one that you find strange.”

“To me you are.” Harry chuckles. “I’ve only known a handful of humans in my life, and you’re very different from the one I knew best, though she wasn’t strictly entirely human, nor may you be.”

“I’m human.” Niall grits out.

“We’ll see.” Harry muses, standing to his feet and brushing the dust off of his bum. “Would you care to accompany me to the yard now? Liam will have it set for our match.”

“I guess.” Niall shrugs, letting Harry help him to his feet. “Wouldn’t mind watching either of you get a smack or two, to be honest.”

“It’ll be more than a smack or two.” Harry tells him. He keeps Niall’s hand tucked inside the crook of his elbow, and Niall can’t decide why he can’t bring himself to remove it.

“Come on then.” Harry growls, stripping off his shirt to a series of cheers from the audience. They think he’s going to shift, but he isn’t planning on it. He just doesn’t want to ruin the hard work that went into making the garment. Nearly the entire castle staff is gathered outside, along with the candidates for Niall’s attendant. Niall himself is perched in the seat Harry usually takes when watching others spar, set high above the crowd and surrounded by the candidates for his protection.

“Sire, is this really necessary?” Liam grins, disrobing just as Harry has. “We both know how this is going to end, and the only one who’ll be learning a lesson here is you. You’re not sparring with Louis after all.”

“Don’t I know it?” Harry scoffs. “He knew how to have repartee. Your tongue is as thick as your head, and twice as useless.”

“You’re going to regret that.” Liam laughs. Predictably, he makes the first move, rushing Harry like a train. Harry steps aside just in time, diving and rolling in the dirt before popping back to his feet. Liam gives him no time to breathe, swinging his fist right for Harry’s jaw. Harry drops back on his hands, flipping backwards and letting his heel connect with Liam’s bottom jaw. The Chevalier flies backwards, but manages to stay upright.

“When are you going to start taking this seriously, Liam?” Harry smirks. “I’m already considering replacing you with the last man who beat you down. If this is all you have, then maybe a human would be sufficient to take your place after all.”

Even through the crowd’s jeering Harry can make out the distressed squeak Niall lets out and smiles at it. The blond has captured Harry’s attention, and he hopes that Niall knows that this entire match is for his benefit. Harry wants Niall to feel secure, and this match is the best way to show Liam and the entirety of his people that the blond is not to be made unhappy in any way. He’s under Harry’s protection now, and that won’t be questioned again.

He lets Liam charge again, leaping over his head and kicking down harshly on his back. Liam lands face down in the dirt and Harry can physically feel the growl he lets out in response as it rips through the air. He lands lightly on his feet behind Liam and reaches down to grab his ankle. Liam is solid as a rock, but Harry has no trouble lifting him up all the same. He could lift dozens of Liams if he tried hard enough. Tossing him up in the air from this vantage is a bit difficult, but when his fist connects with Liam’s stomach he knows it was worth it.

Liam flies across the yard into the wall and the sound of bones cracking echoes through the air. It’s not enough to claim victory, but it might be enough to get Liam to start fighting back in earnest. Despite Liam’s earlier words, Harry can tell that he’s letting his King win so far, and he won’t have that. Harry is going to win fairly. Nothing else will suffice.

Liam stands up and rolls his shoulders, letting his bones mend themselves before attacking again. His eyes flash angrily when they connect with Harry’s. Perfect. Harry feels a rush of excitement when Liam’s hands shift, his claws finally coming out. The crowd goes silent, but Harry can hear Niall’s heartbeat speed up just a bit. He’ll have to push things farther though before he can get his point across. Hopefully Niall won’t be too scarred by the experience. That would be counterproductive.

Harry moves first this time, driving right up the center of the yard towards his Chevalier. Liam catches his fist in mid-air, but that’s exactly what Harry was counting on. His leg lashes out viciously, connecting with Liam’s side now that it’s unprotected. Liam grunts as he flies, but catches the wall and manages to remain standing despite the blow. Harry jumps backwards towards the center of the ring, laughter ringing out from his lips. He hasn’t had this much fun in ages.

Liam charges him again, though faster than he had before. Harry raises his hands to brace himself, but at the last second Liam drops close to the ground and sweeps Harry’s feet out from under him in the first blow he’s managed to land. Harry just manages to roll out of the way when Liam’s fist lands where his face had been only a moment before. He flips backwards and back onto his feet, dancing out of Liam’s reach when he claws out for Harry’s side. He’s looking to end this now, but Harry is just getting started.

Liam leaves himself open after a barrage of swipes and Harry takes advantage, letting his knee connect with Liam’s stomach and bringing his fists down together on his back. He picks Liam up again and throws him determinedly across the yard. Liam rolls several times before he manages to get upright. It’s time now and Harry growls out “Shift.”

Liam shakes his head and says, “I can take you down this way, Sire.”

“Shift!” Harry roars, letting his throat transform just enough to make the word menacing.

Liam bares his teeth and leaps towards Harry, his hand outstretched towards the King’s throat. Harry catches him easily and swings him around before throwing him once more into the wall. “Shift!” Harry bellows, much to the crowd’s delight.

Liam stands up, seething and lets the transformation take over. His trousers tear away as he grows, falling in shreds to the beast’s feet. Liam falls forward for a moment, the shift taking its toll as his muscles rearrange themselves. His back ripples, the vertebrae becoming more pronounced before the fur grows out over it. He looks up at Harry, his face becoming more lupine, and howls.

He moves faster in this form, his limbs lengthened and his muscles strengthened to reward him with superior abilities. Harry can’t quite keep up enough to take advantage of his openings, but he manages to stay out of reach of the fangs and claws his Chevalier is lashing out with. He’d overestimated himself, it seems, when he assumed that he could handle this easily, but he won’t shift too. He’ll win this, and he’ll win it without ever changing. His victory will be absolute.

Liam is herding him, shepherding him towards the wall to pin him down, and Harry lets him think that will work. Once he feels the cold stone of the wall behind him he freezes. If the lycan form could smirk, Liam would be. He bounds towards Harry and goes in for the winning blow. At the last second Harry leaps sideways and Liam crashes into the wall. He doesn’t recover quickly enough to stop Harry’s foot from connecting and is thrown across the ring. Harry follows quickly, his predatory instincts kicking in. He picks Liam up, hands gripping into the dark fur and pushes him into the wall. Both fists push into his stomach alternately at a speed that Harry is sure he’ll feel the strain of later.

Liam can’t seem to recover from the blows, his breath going ragged. Harry decides to end it here, before Liam is too humiliated to ever forgive him. He grabs the beast’s throat, forcibly keeping himself from wincing when Liam’s claws dig into his arm. He reaches back and then swings his fist around into the side of Liam’s face. His body goes slack in Harry’s grip, hands falling to his side as his body shifts back involuntarily in order to mend itself.

Harry settles him gently on the ground and turns back to the cheering crowd. Instead of raising his arms in victory though, he signals for silence. “I would have words!” he calls out, the people settling down immediately. “All of you will have noticed by now that there is a newcomer among us, an outsider. Some of you know why, and most do not. The reason is irrelevant. He is my guest, and as such he is under my protection. Anyone who disrespects him will receive the same punishment that Liam has for it. Would anyone care to challenge me on this?”

The crowd doesn’t make a peep, casting their eyes downwards instead. “Excellent.” Harry laughs. “Now, someone get him cleaned up, and those of you who have been chosen as candidates meet with Mr. Horan and myself in the throne room once he’s recovered.”

“How did you enjoy the match?” Harry asks once he’s corralled Niall into the throne room.

“That was-” Niall starts, trying to find the right word. “Intense.”

“That doesn’t answer my question.” Harry hums.

“It was a bit terrifying, but also really interesting.” Niall admits. “It was like something out of a comic.”

“I don’t know what that means.” Harry chuckles.

“They’re stories about people with special abilities, told with pictures.” Niall explains. “Some are made into films with a lot of action.”

“I’ve never seen a film.” Harry laughs. “Are they very exciting?”

“They can be.” Niall shrugs. “It depends on what you watch I suppose. Can I ask a question?”

“You may ask as many as you like.” Harry smiles.

“Why didn’t you- You know- Go full werewolf on him?” Niall asks.

“One, because I’m not a werewolf.” Harry huffs. “And two, because I didn’t need to. I wanted to win the way that I did. I wanted him, and everyone else there, to remember that I am still the King, and, as such, I am more powerful than anyone else in this city. I won’t tolerate another uncivil word or action against you.”

“But why?” Niall asks. “Once whatever test you’re doing confirms that I’m human, what do you care what happens to me?”

“Because it has been a very long time since I’ve met someone like you, and I’m not letting the same thing happen to you that happened to him.” Harry says quietly.

“Was he- I mean- Were you two-” Niall stammers.

“Are you asking if he was my mate, Mr. Horan?” Harry smirks. “He wasn’t. He was actually Liam’s. But he was the dearest friend I have ever had, and he would have liked you very much I think.”

“Oh.” Niall breathes out.

“He never kept a word to himself, and his tongue was nearly as vulgar as yours can be.” Harry laughs. “And he refused to use honorifics, as I suspect you will.”

“Like ‘Your Majesty’ and shite like that?” Niall asks. “Because yeah, that’s not going to happen. You’re not my King, remember?”

“I’m perfectly aware that you aren’t one of my people, Mr. Horan.” Harry hums. “For one thing, you smell quite different.”

“Will you people stop smelling me?” Niall groans. “That’s generally considered creepy where I’m from.”

“We can’t help it. Lycans communicate as much through scent and body language as we do verbally.” Harry shrugs. “Even if we tried not to, our olfactory senses are several hundreds of times stronger than yours. We can’t stop smelling you any more than you can stop seeing colors.”

“Well stop talking about it.” Niall grumbles. “I have enough reason to be upset without being made self-conscious about how I smell. You all make it sound like I’ve been rolling around in rubbish or something.”

“On the contrary.” Harry grins. “You smell quite pleasant. It’s just different than us.”

“Whatever.” Niall huffs, hoping desperately that he isn’t blushing. He decides to change the subject and asks “What did you do with Basil?”

“Your guard is fine. We dosed him with rohypnol so that he couldn’t remember what happened, and then we left him in your house. For the time being, it will seem as if you’ve escaped for some privacy. With your previous track record, that shouldn’t be too hard for people to believe. It will take weeks before anyone truly notices you’re gone.” Harry explains “If you’d like though, I can find a way for you to write letters to your family to let them know you’re safe. They’ll be read of course, to make sure you don’t expose our kind or Final Bastion, but you can still put their minds at ease.”

“You think that’s enough? A few letters?” Niall grits out. “You think ‘Hey mum, I’ve been kidnapped, but I’m safe. I’m sorry I’ll never see you again because some bastards decided I might be a fairy.’ is sufficient to make up for what you’ve done to me?”

“No.” Harry sighs. “Nothing will ever be enough, but I can’t let a threat to my people walk out of my grasp. You know far too much about us, about Final Bastion. And even if I did let you go, my enemies would just take you and have you tortured for information before they killed you.”

“What fucking enemies?” Niall spits. “Who on Earth could possibly be a threat to you people? Who could scare the King of the Werewolves?”

“You saw them last night.” Harry tells him. “And you know what they are. Don’t pretend you don’t.”

“No. I fucking refuse to believe in fucking vampires on top of werewolves.” Niall scowls.

“What you believe is irrelevant. They’re as real as lycans.” Harry says, stressing his species’ name. “And they’re far more dangerous. I wasn’t lying when I said that we’re losing the war against them. They’re just as fast and strong as we are, and all mercy leaves them when they die. Their King, the Master, he wants you, and he’ll stop at nothing to get his hands on you, whether for information or power.”

“So basically I’m fucked up, down, and sideways.” Niall mutters. “And the closest thing to a bright side of my situation is that I get stuck with a bunch of bisexual werewolves- Sorry- Lycans, in a castle under Stonehenge for the rest of my life with no hope for parole, electricity, or plumbing.”

“Basically, yes.” Harry nods. “I can work on getting you some things from the human world to make your life more comfortable if you like. Books and such.”

“Is there a way out of this for me? Like any way at all?” Niall asks quietly.

“The only way out of this is if you find a way to beat their leader, and theory holds true.” Harry sighs. “If we can kill him, the Master, then the rest of his species should die alongside him, because they were all sired through him or his progeny, and his source of magical energy would no longer exist. He’s thousands of years old though, and I don’t even know that he can truly be killed. He’s- He’s like a hurricane. He’s impossibly powerful, and he doesn’t care what’s in his way.

“We’ve fought him for so long, but the tide is turning against us. He’s inching closer and closer to controlling the human world every day, and we’re the only thing holding him back. We aren’t going to be able to do it much longer though. I’m losing people every day, but he can just make more come nightfall. We used to number in the hundreds of thousands you know. There were four other cities like Final Bastion, but they’ve become nothing more than ruins. I’m the only King left.

“That’s why you’re so important. If you were to fall into his hands, and if you’re what I think you are, then that would be the final bullet in his belt. The fae left this world long ago, but occasionally one pops back up, the result of long sleeping bloodlines, or even a changeling once or twice, and they have immense power hidden inside them. The Master used them to obliterate the other Lycan populaces, wiping them out in a matter of hours each time.”

“Jesus.” Niall gasps.

“So do you get it?” Harry asks. “Do you understand why I can’t let you leave? He is a monster, a true monster, and if you’re a weapon, then he will use you to devastating effect. He will kill all of us here, and then sweep across the surface like a tsunami of blood and rage until all of humankind is enslaved or dead. Nothing, and no one will be left to stop him.”

“But if he dies, then I could leave? Why?” Niall asks.

“Because then my people could move from here and find a new home.” Harry sighs. “You might be able to convince people that we exist, but it’s likely that you would just appear crazy and be locked away. Either way, there would be no evidence of us left where you could expose us and put us in danger. I would take my people somewhere safe and destroy the portal that allows people to come into Final Bastion. You would no longer be a danger.”

“And if I’m fae?” Niall asks, unable to believe that he’s even considering the possibility. “What then?”

“We’ll discuss that if the time comes.” Harry mumbles. “You would have certain options.”

He doesn’t say more than that though, and Niall has a feeling that pressing it would be a mistake. He doesn’t get a chance anyways, as the door to the room creaks open and a line of people files in behind Liam, who looks grumpy, but otherwise unharmed. You could never tell that he’d been beaten bloody less than half an hour ago. “Sire. Mr. Horan.” he says curtly. “I’ve brought the candidates. Each has been versed in all possible duties of the position, and each has agreed to fill the position with integrity and allow me to resume my normal responsibilities.”

“What, are you tired of being my babysitter Liam?” Niall hums, given confidence by the hand that Harry has on his shoulder. It’s probably not best to antagonize Liam, but Niall really wouldn’t mind watching him get beaten down again. He’s an ass.

“I have more important things to deal with than the likes of you, Mr. Horan, as does our king.” Liam sneers.

“Liam.” Harry says warningly, and there must be something more to it because all of the other lycans’ faces twist up like they’re in pain. “Mr. Horan, do you have a gender preference for your attendant?”

“Bloke, I guess.” Niall shrugs. “If I have to spend day in and day out with them, at least I might as well have something to look at.”

“Excellent point.” Harry laughs. “Ladies, your presence was appreciated, but your services are no longer required in this. Please return to whatever post Liam had you in before, with my gratitude.”

“Your Majesty.” comes a chorus of voices from the four female lycans that Liam had brought. They each drop to a knee and place their hands on their opposite shoulders, as Liam had the night before, and then disappear in flashes out the door.

There are four blokes left, and Niall is almost floored by the pure level of attractiveness of them. Lycans must have fantastic genetics. If his circumstances were different then he’d love to have a go at some of them. Even the one that kind of resembles a taller version of himself. “I would advise not choosing solely on the basis of looks, but you’re free to do as you please.” Harry chuckles.

“Maybe I should take Liam then, and let you pick his replacement from the leftovers.” Niall grins.

“Ah ah, Mr. Horan, that one is mine. Despite what you saw outside, he is still my most powerful warrior, and I need him by my side. Unless you’d care to fill his position.” Harry says with a conspiratorial smile. “After all, you did beat him in a fight. In two moves too. Even I had to hit him more than that to put him down.”

“That sounds like so much work.” Niall says with a melodramatic sigh. “And I’ve got a bit of a bum knee. Don’t think I’d be able to do all the walking he seems to have to do. And I don’t fancy being a punching bag neither.”

“Then I guess I’ll have to keep him and you can pick from the rest.” Harry giggles.

“If I must.” Niall shrugs. “Go on then, introduce yourselves why don’t you? You there on the end, the one the size of a bloody mountain, you first.”

“My name is Bressie, sir.” he tells Niall, appearing in front of the blond almost instantly and dropping to one knee.

“You’re Irish?” Niall asks bewilderedly.

“My mother was. I was raised by her alone, and the accent stuck.” Bressie explains. “I’ve never actually been to Ireland though.”

“Alright then. Next in line please.” Niall hums.

The blond one rushes up next, following the same gesture as Bressie and saying, “Luke, sir.”

“Australian?” Niall asks, looking at Harry.

“Me, and the other two candidates left were all raised by an Australian caretaker after being orphaned.” Luke says quietly. “Like Bressie, we’ve never actually been there.”

“I’m sorry.” Niall tells him. “I was adopted as well.”

Luke nods, but says nothing. The next one, a lad of Asian descent takes the next spot beside him and informs Niall that his name is “Calum.”

“And I’m Ashton.” the last one says, striding up at a leisurely pace and not bothering to drop down. “Pleased to meet you, Niall.”

“Oh, I want that one.” Niall laughs to Harry. “He’s almost normal.”

“Ashton, are you prepared for what the position entails?” Harry asks. “Are you ready to live and die for Mr. Horan?”

“Yes, but you better be worth it mate.” Ashton says with a grin. “Don’t plan on dying just because you can’t keep us out of trouble or you fancy pissing off our Liam.”

“Very well then. Liam will show you where the pair of you will be living from now on.” Harry tells him. “I have some matters to discuss with Mr. Horan, but you can retrieve him shortly.”

“Your Majesty.” Ashton nods.

“How come Liam calls you ‘Sire’, but the rest all use proper terms?” Niall asks once they’ve all left.

“I’ve asked him to, as a sign of my respect for the work he’s done as my Chevalier.” Harry explains. “And honestly, I hate hearing ‘Your Majesty’ over and over again. It’s tiring.”

“Good, because all you’ll get from me is your name.” Niall shrugs. “Don’t think for a moment I’ll spend time stroking your ego.”

“May I call you Niall then?” Harry asks.

“I don’t know. I kind of like the idea of you always calling me ‘Mr. Horan’. Makes it sound like I’m your boss or summat.” Niall chuckles. “But I suppose turnabout is fair play. Liam can’t though. He’s stuck with ‘Mr. Horan’ until he learns to stop being a dick.”

“That’s unlikely to happen any time soon. As I said, you bear a striking similarity to his former mate in personality, if not in looks.” Harry sighs, dropping down on what Niall presumes is his throne. “But enough about that. You have a very important meeting in a few hours Niall, and that will determine a great many things about the future.”

“Like?” Niall asks.

“Like whether or not you’ll have a peaceful existence.” Harry says firmly. “If you are fae then there will be certain things we need from you, certain choices to be made. If you’re human however, then all that will happen is that you will be kept here and given a comfortable life within the palace walls.”

“I guess we’ll just have to wait for it to be done then, so that you’ll believe me.” Niall mutters. “I’m human, and you’ll have done this for no real reason other than caution.”

“I hate to say that I can find no fault in that. What would you have done in my position, Niall?” Harry asks.

“I don’t know.” Niall admits. “I’m not a king. The question is, Harry, do you think that you did the right thing? Do you think that destroying my life, and the lives of the people who love me, will be worth it when you turn out to be wrong?”

“Only time will tell.” Harry says quietly, standing up and walking towards a different hall than the one Liam and Ashton exited through. “I will call for you when the test is ready. Until then, you have free reign to do as you please, as long as you are escorted by Ashton. You are welcome to call on me at any time. I will make time to hear you out.”

“What’ll happen to me afterwards?” Niall asks. “Will I still matter when I end up human? Will I still be worthy of your attention or sympathy? Or will you act the same way towards me that the rest of your kind does?”

“Whatever happens, Niall, I will spend the rest of your life making up to you what I have done. This isn’t fair, and I know that. I had to do it, but that doesn’t mean I don’t hate myself for having to.” Harry mumbles. “I will always be in your debt for the sacrifice you’ve been forced to make, and as such, you will always have my services at your call.”

He leaves without another word, disappearing behind the door. Ashton wastes no time letting his presence be known with a whistle from the doorway. “Mate, you’ve got to see our chambers. They’re amazing.” he laughs. “Luke is gonna love it.”

“Why?” Niall asks, walking over to the curly haired lycan. “I picked you, not him.”

“We’re a mated pair.” Ashton explains. “He’ll be living with us, but I promise, he’s very clean and we’ll keep the sex quiet for your sake.”

“Oh Lord.” Niall groans. This is either going to be very interesting, or completely insane and end in bloodshed.

“Sire.” Liam says, appearing in Harry’s chamber after having directed Ashton to his new living quarters.

“You’re healing alright?” Harry asks gently. “I didn’t hurt you too badly, did I?”

“Nothing I couldn’t handle, Sire.” Liam huffs, rubbing his still-sore jaw. “Though I would care to know when you learned to fight like that.”

“I had something to fight for.” Harry shrugs, stripping off his trousers. “Have them prepare a bath for me, will you? Some absolute fool decided to make me push myself to the limit in order to teach him a proper lesson, and now I smell like a pile of pups. Thank god Niall’s nose isn’t strong enough to really detect it.”

“Sire.” Liam nods, pulling the lever that lets the servants downstairs know that they are needed. “Might I ask though, why do you care?”

“Don’t tell me you don’t see the similarities, Liam.” Harry tuts. “It’s okay to admit it. He’s very much like Louis.”

“He’s nothing like Louis!” Liam grits out. To compare his mate, and this- this human- is nonsense. Louis could be a bit mouthy, yes, and he never bit his tongue when he should, and he was equally as strong in spirit, but that’s as far as the ‘similarities’ go. Well, maybe not entirely. They’re also both short and have bright blue eyes, but that’s it. Probably.

“I know you miss him, Liam. I do too.” Harry says quietly. “I need you to sever our connection though. You’re losing yourself in it. I need you to keep your humanity, but you’re becoming hard. Don’t let that happen. Don’t become the opposite of me in that. Don’t let magic drain away the parts of you that Louis loved. Break the connection before it’s too late for you to turn back.”

“He’s making you soft.” Liam scoffs. “I can smell you on him you know, and so can the others. Are you seriously marking a human?”

“No. I just can’t control it as well as I would like. He- He’s bringing something out in me, though what, I cannot say.” Harry sighs. “I haven’t felt this calm in so long that I’d nearly forgotten what it was like. It’s doing things to my body that I can’t quite figure out. But just because I’m no longer manic doesn’t mean that you need to become this way. I’m telling you to break the connection. We can have the witch set up a new one once your personality is back to normal.”

“Whatever you say, Sire.” Liam huffs, letting his fangs drop down and stalking forward. He lifts the King’s arm and bites down harshly, letting the blood fill his mouth before pulling away. He hates this ritual, hates magic in general, but mostly he hates the way that he feels completely unworthy to have this gift. Harry mirrors Liam’s actions, though his bite is gentler. They each reach forward and grab the other by the back of the neck, sinking their claws into the flesh, eyes locked as they swallow the mouthfuls of blood.

The sensation is instantaneous once he retracts his claws, and it feels like someone has let the air out of him. He drops to his knees, sobs wracking his body from the pain of Harry’s power leaving him. The connection allows him certain abilities, as is the reward for his position, but he feels them drain away like water through a sieve. His strength feels reduced, and he can no longer feel the King’s life force. If anything were to happen right now, Liam would not be able to sense it. He’d have to rely on his nose to track Harry down should he leave Liam’s sight. It feels like someone has taken a piece of him away, and he can’t quite cope with the sensation.

The pain alleviates rather quickly, but the empty part of him is still crying out. “You’ll be okay.” Harry mutters reassuringly, caressing Liam’s face. “I know it hurts. It hurts me too. It will only be a few hours though. We’ll have him fix it before he does the ritual for Niall, alright? How are you feeling? Is the anger subsiding?”

“Yes.” Liam nods. “I’ve been awful, haven’t I?”

“Only because I haven’t.” Harry tells him. “It’s not your fault. This spell kept you as a counterbalance for me, but I think we’ll have to work out a new one now that I’ve remembered what humanity feels like. Thank you, Liam, for bearing that on my behalf, for taking on my emotions in order to keep me sane.”

“I would take more for you, Sire.” Liam whispers. “Though I must admit, I am glad to see a bit of the old you. Louis would have been too.”